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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29781165">Riposte</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Feeshies/pseuds/Feeshies'>Feeshies</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Metalocalypse (Cartoon)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Explicit Sexual Content, Hand Jobs, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mid-Canon, Porn with Feelings, Power Bottom, Power Play</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 02:20:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,271</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29781165</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Feeshies/pseuds/Feeshies</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>During the events of Dethsources, Charles tries to figure out what Melmord's play is.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Melmord Fjordslorn/Charles Foster Offdensen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>When Charles accepted Melmord’s invitation, it wasn’t just to humor him.  He knew that Melmord’s casual act was just that: an act.  There was no way he’d be content playing second-in-command forever.  When that day would finally come when Melmord would attempt to take over his position as Dethklok’s manager, Charles would prefer to be prepared.  Which is why Charles accepted his invitation to go out for a couple of drinks.  Keep your friends close, and your enemies…blah blah blah.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The location Melmord picked out was strangely classier than Charles would have expected.  Not a laminated menu nor arcade room in sight.  It looked like a normal bar, one he could see himself spending an evening in when he was younger and still had time to waste.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Saturday night crowd had already poured in, filling the place to near-capacity.  While Charles was relieved that they would be meeting in public, he wasn’t fond of the way he had to do that little indecisive shuffle near the front entrance as he scanned the crowds for Melmord.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, man. Over here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Somehow his mellow voice managed to cut through the sea of chatter.  His “rival” waved him over from the bar, gesturing to an empty stool next to him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>It’s just one drink.  </span>
  </em>
  <span>Charles told himself as he took a seat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks for meeting me here.”  Melmord tilted his drink at him.  Some kind of dark liquor, although Charles imagined it wasn’t as good as the brandy he served him earlier.  “I was starting to think you wouldn’t show up.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You invited me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, but you didn’t have to come.  Honestly, it would have been such a power move if you stood me up.  You really woulda’ bruised my ego there.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was right.  That would have been good.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Melmord laughed and sipped at his drink.  Charles couldn’t help but notice that his shirt was...still slightly unbuttoned.  Maybe he had undone another button since he’d last seen him, as he could now see more of his chest hair peeking out.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charles coughed and looked away.  He wasn’t going to let Melmord get under his skin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fortunately, Melmord didn’t seem to notice his staring.  Not that Charles was staring, or anything.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Still, glad you could make it.  Figured that, since we’re going to be working together, we should get to know each other more.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charles nodded stiffly.  What game was he playing?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think that’s a good idea.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Great!”  Melmord tried to get the bartender’s attention.  “What’s your poison?  On me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just, um,” Charles shook his head.  “Just water for now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh come on,” Melmord laughed.  “We’re at a </span>
  <em>
    <span>bar</span>
  </em>
  <span>, man.  I hate being the only inebriated one in company.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m driving.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Melmord snorted,</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not asking you to get sloppy.  Also you’re the manager of the most famous entertainment act in the world, and you don’t have a driver?  Not exactly glamorous.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s not a glamorous job.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Really?  ‘Brandy and Cigars’ ain’t exactly ‘Coffee and Cigarettes’, you feel me?”  Melmord chuckled.  “Whatever, I won’t expect you to drink.  Apparently you only do that when it’s the middle of the work day and </span>
  <em>
    <span>you’re</span>
  </em>
  <span> the one offering it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charles paled, but he managed to keep his composure.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll have an old fashioned.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Right on!”  Melmord called the bartender over and relayed Charles’ order.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charles lifted his drink and took a sip.  He hadn’t had an old fashioned since...law school?  At least not one that was crafted by someone else.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Guess I’ll be the one to break the ice.”  Melmord gave a sidelong smile.  “What’s the wildest thing you’ve ever done?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charles paused as he was placing the glass back onto the little napkin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why are you asking?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s a conversation, my guy.”  Melmord laughed.  “I figured you must have some interesting stories.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“None that I feel like telling.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, you’re doing the whole ‘mysterious’ thing.  I dig it, I dig it.”  Melmord took another sip.  “So you have </span>
  <em>
    <span>no</span>
  </em>
  <span> interesting stories from Harvard?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charles frowned,</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How did you know I went to Harvard?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Melmord laughed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I was in your office today, man.  It’s only on, like, 40% of your plaques and diplomas.”  He chuckled.  “Also I’ve learned to sniff you guys out.  Being a Yalie and all.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charles almost choked on his drink,</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You...you went to </span>
  <em>
    <span>Yale?</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Melmord snickered,</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t sound so surprised.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, I mean…”  Charles stammered.  “How-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How did a guy like me get into Yale, you mean?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, I, uh, didn’t mean it like that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Melmord waved his hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re cool, I know the vibes I give off.  But yeah, I went to Yale School of Management.”  He cast a sidelong smile at Charles.  “You didn’t think ‘your boys’ would grab some random guy in a blazer to help with their managerial stuff, right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Honestly, that’s exactly what Charles thought they did.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So yeah, they’re in qualified hands.”   Melmord continued.  “I won’t let them crash and burn, don’t worry.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charles hated how his chuckle sounded almost nervous.  The cocktail must have been getting to him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn’t mean to assume.  I just, ah, didn’t expect you to care about business.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>care </span>
  </em>
  <span>about business, in the sense that I have a degree for it and it pays my bills.”  He took another drink.  “It’s just not </span>
  <em>
    <span>all</span>
  </em>
  <span> that I care about.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charles frowned.  He couldn’t place it, but he couldn’t help but sense that Melmord was deliberately trying to get under his skin.  Especially the way he leaned back against the bar casually and Charles found himself glancing down at the exposed portion of his chest again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If you’re serious about being Dethklok’s manager,” he spoke carefully.  “You can’t afford to care about anything else.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“For fuck’s sake,” Melmord laughed.  “You ever turn it off for, like, ten minutes?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh, what do you mean?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I get that you have your whole ‘evil overlord’ aesthetic going on, but you’re not at work right now,” He lifted his glass.  “You’re just having a drink with a coworker.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Coworker, huh?  Charles humored him and clinked his glass against his.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s all bullshit, though,” Melmord continued.  “Right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s, uh, what’s bullshit?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Melmord snickered,</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“First, you’re adorable when you curse.  But I mean all the business stuff.  That’s what I took from studying it.  There’s all this prestige, but then you enter that world and you realize that no one has any fucking idea what they’re doing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This stuff isn’t ‘bullshit’ to me, okay?”  Charles set his glass down.  “This is how the world works.  You don’t have to like it, but this is reality.  The world operates under these systems, and people like us - people like </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span> - need to be able to understand it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Melmord stared at him for a moment, then,</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wow, you really drank the Kool-Aid, huh?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This isn’t-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know, I know.”  Melmord rolled his eyes.  “Jim Jones gave his followers Flavor Aid, not Kool-Aid.  It’s just an expression, dude.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s not what I-”  Charles sighed and shook his head.  “Listen, if you’re not going to take this position seriously-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, I’ll take it seriously.  We still live in a capitalist hell and it’s paying my bills.  But I’m just saying, everyone acts like you need to be, like, some higher life form to understand business and the economy, but you really don’t.”  He grinned.  “The only reason we’re in power is because everyone else thinks we’re special.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charles took another drink.  Okay, now the liquor was starting to get to him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t believe you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Melmord raised his eyebrows.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ve met some of the people you went to business school, right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He shook his head,</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, I mean, to be frank, I don’t believe that you take this seriously.”  Little brash, but too late to turn back now.  “From what I’ve heard, all you’ve done for the band is party with them.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shit, are you their manager or their babysitter?”  Melmord chuckled and shook his head.  “But yeah, I hung out with them.  What, don’t you do that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No.”  Charles stared into his drink.  “I’m their manager - not their friend.  If you wanted someone to go on a bender with, you could do that without interfering with my business.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dude, relax,” Melmord rolled his eyes again.  “The guys wanted to hang out and have fun, so I did.  It’s not a big deal, I just wanted to get to know them.  That’s what I’m doing now, right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charles frowned and glanced around the bar.  Compared to what he heard about Melmord’s, uh, endeavors with the band, he wouldn’t have expected him to choose this establishment.  It wasn’t outrageously upscale or anything, but it was...tasteful.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“See?  I read people pretty well.  Figured this would be more your style than some club.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes,”  Charles hesitated.  “This is...okay.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just okay?  I thought a chill place like this would suit you.”  Melmord brought his glass to his lips and stared at Charles.  “Unless The Abbey would be more your scene.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charles choked on his drink.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I, uh,” he stammered.  “I don’t know what you’re implying.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, I think you do.”  He mused.  “I didn’t just learn how to read numbers from Yale School of Management.  I also learned how to read people.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charles’ grip tightened around his glass as he felt his stomach twist into knots.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What does this mean?”  He asked carefully.  “Are you going to blackmail me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charles might have imagined it, but for a moment a genuine look of concern flashed across Melmord’s face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?  Of course not.  Shit…”  Melmord rubbed his eyes.  “I’m not threatening you at all.  I’m just saying that I picked up on your signals.  And if you’re down, I’m down.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charles felt his face flush.  Probably the alcohol.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What signals?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Melmord smirked,</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You didn’t think I’d catch you glancing at my chest when we first met, huh?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His face burned hotter.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You had your shirt unbuttoned.” Charles made a point to avoid eye contact.  “It was inappropriate work attire.  That’s why I was staring.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, but we’re not at work anymore,” Melmord smiled.  “And you’re still doing it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charles thought he was going to pass out right there, but he tried to keep his cool.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t know what you’re implying.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think you do.”  Melmord scooted closer to him.  Barely an inch, but Charles noticed.  “The question is, what do you plan on doing about it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charles knew what Melmord was doing.  He was deliberately provoking him, trying to get him to let his guard down, then using the humiliation as leverage to take over his job.  That was the only explanation.  But what made it even worse was, even though he knew what he was doing, he could still feel it working.  The close distance between them was almost thrilling.  It reminded him of the first time a handsome stranger started chatting him up at a bar.  After always being the man pulling the strings behind the scenes, being able to feel seen was intoxicating.  That, paired with Melmord’ cologne and the playful crease of his smile…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Suddenly, one of Melmord’s hands was on his forearm and Charles felt his breath catch in his throat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We don’t have to stay here, you know,”  His voice was unnervingly disarming.  “We could always get to know each other more in private.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charles tried to compose himself, but he could only think about that hand running up and down his arm.  That didn’t bother him as much as the realization that he wasn’t making an effort to remove it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Was this your plan all along?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Melmord laughed,</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This is pleasure, not business.  Trust me, I wouldn’t be doing this if you weren’t hot.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charles tried to hide his face behind his hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Now you’re just flattering me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is it working?”  Melmord chuckled.  “Trust me, I do have standards.  And you fit most of them.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh, thanks, I guess…”  Charles fidgeted with his sleeves.  “What did you hope would happen?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I was hoping that we could get to know each other more, find some common ground.”  He smirked against the rim of his glass.  “Unless, you were hoping for something more.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charles could feel Melmord’s hand on his arm tighten, but it wasn’t unwelcomed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m, uh, going to have to ask you to define ‘something more’.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think you can read between the lines.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What you’re implying, if I’m correct, could pose a risk to both of our positions.  So, I’ll need you to be direct.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, fine.  I’ll be as clear as I can,”  He inched a bit closer, his voice dropping to a rough whisper.  “How about I pay the tab, and then we go back to Mordhaus and we can continue this conversation in private?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charles shivered.  There was nothing he wanted more than to jump at Melmord’s advances, but a tiny sliver of his rational mind was still present.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Quid pro quo won’t work on me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Like I said, this isn’t about work.”  He grinned.  “Right now, I’m just a man propositioning another man at a bar.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charles closed his eyes.  It was getting harder and harder to reject him.  Melmord was still sitting a respectable distance from him, but he could practically feel his lips against his neck when he spoke.  His chest ached as he realized he needed more.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If you disclose this to any of the band members-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t kiss and tell, okay?”  Melmord shrugged.  “Hell, I’ll even sign an NDA if that would give you peace of mind.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charles let out a shaky sigh and stood up.  For a moment, a look of wide-eyed rejection appeared on Melmord’s face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Pay the tab and meet me outside.”  Charles spoke carefully.  “I’ll call the limo.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The thought “I can’t believe I’m doing this” crossed Charles’ mind in a constant stream as he stood outside the bar.  Once again, he found himself awkwardly shuffling from side to side as he waited for Melmord.</p><p>When Melmord finally left the bar, Charles hated how he felt his heart skip a beat when he first saw him again.</p><p>“What’s the status on our ride?”</p><p>Charles looked down at his phone.</p><p>“It’ll be a few minutes.”</p><p>“Hmm,”  Melmord mused.  “You wanna go somewhere quieter while we wait?”</p><p>Charles hesitated, but the crowds gathering outside the establishment were already starting to make him feel uneasy.</p><p>“Okay.  But not too far.”</p><p>Charles ended up following Melmord behind the bar, but still close enough to the front entrance where he could still see the road.  It was quieter, at least.  The sounds of the night were muffled in the distance.  Which only meant that Charles’ worries were more amplified in his mind.</p><p>Melmord traced his fingers along Charles’ jaw, an oddly tender gesture that shook him to his core.</p><p>“You good?”</p><p>Charles nodded.  Why was he so nervous?  It wasn’t like he was inexperienced.  And besides, he held the power in this situation.  In the grand scheme of Dethklok’s story, Melmord would be a minor blip.</p><p>“If you’re uncomfortable, I’ll back off.”  Melmord’s hand paused just above his cheekbone, and Charles resented how he yearned for more.  “I’m not like that.”</p><p>“No,”  Charles shuddered.  “I’m okay with this.”</p><p>Melmord seemed to think for a moment, then he locked eyes with him,</p><p>“Are you okay with me kissing you?”</p><p>Another shiver ran up Charles’ spine.  The reality that this was actually happening was finally starting to sink in.  In a foolish moment where the aching in his chest drowned out all rational thought, he nodded.</p><p>Melmord held his face in his hands and pushed him up against the wall.  The gasp he would have made disappeared when Melmord crushed his mouth against his.  </p><p>After a few seconds of standing frozen in place, Charles wrapped his arms around his shoulders and dug his fingers through that hair he realized he’d been desperate to get a hold of ever since he first saw him.  He found it surprisingly easy to work with his movements.  Melmord may have started out aggressive, but he quickly backed off into a gentle pace that was more in tune with Charles’.  He felt his face heat up all over again when he realized that he could feel him smiling against his lips, the sensation amplified by the faint scratch of his stubble.  Even the little nip on his lower lip came off as playful, rather than his rival trying to provoke him.</p><p>Then Charles remembered that they were still in public, and he craned his face away from his.</p><p>Melmord responded by continuing to kiss along his jaw.</p><p>“You’re a good kisser.”  He punctuated his words with a little laugh and a gentle nip to his earlobe.</p><p>“Someone might see us,” Charles whispered.</p><p>“So?”  He smirked against his jaw.  “You don’t think the tabloids care this much about what a band’s managers do, right?”</p><p>“I-”  The words died in his throat, his mind still buzzing from the kiss.</p><p>“I can imagine the headlines, though.”  Melmord chuckled before lightly pecking him on the lips.  “<em> Dethklok’s Manager Spotted with Handsome Stranger </em>.”</p><p>“Could you just,”  His voice was already starting to sound breathless.  He didn’t bother to fix this.  “Try to show, uh, a little bit of discretion?  At least until we’re back at Mordhaus?”</p><p>“How can you expect me to hold back when you’re looking this <em> good </em> right now?”</p><p>Suddenly, something from the street basked them in a red glow.  Charles craned his head away from Melmord’s lips to see the dethlimo pulling up outside the bar.</p><p>Melmord laughed, burying his face into Charles’ shoulder.</p><p>“What was that about ‘discretion’?”</p><p>Charles shoved him away.</p><p>“Just get in the limo before I change my mind.”</p><p>“You know, I always figured you’d be one for a dramatic exit.”</p><p>A sizable crowd was forming outside the limo, but they quickly seemed to lose interest when they realized that the band wasn’t there.  Still, Charles felt pressured to keep his head down until they reached the doors.  Melmord’s offhand comment about the tabloids wasn’t helping his nerves.  He knew that with his command of the press, he could shut down any story before it reached print.  But the thought still distressed him.</p><p>The moment they were alone inside the limo, Melmord grabbed at Charles’ lapels, pushing him down against the red leather seat.  Charles’ yelp was swallowed by his eager mouth crushing against his.  Apparently whatever restraint he was previously exhibiting outside the bar was now gone.  While it was electrifying to see the other manager start to lose his control...no, this wasn’t right.</p><p>Charles wiggled his way out from under him, pushing Melmord to the other side of the seat.</p><p>“Not in here.”  He straightened the collar of his jacket.  “The boys, uh, still need to use this.”</p><p>Melmord scoffed,</p><p>“As if they haven’t done worse things back here.”</p><p>Charles knew he was right, but he didn’t want to think about that.</p><p>“Just wait until Mordhaus.”</p><p>Melmord sighed,</p><p>“Fine.”  He immediately began fiddling with the music system.  “You like Blink 182?”</p><p>When they finally arrived at Mordhaus, Charles led Melmord through the halls, careful to avoid passing any of the band members of klokateers.  Seeing him walking with his newly appointed “co-manager” wouldn’t have been a strange sight, but Charles couldn’t face them.  Not when he knew what was about to happen.</p><p>He pulled Melmord into his office and closed the door behind them.  Melmord dug his hands into his blazer pockets and glanced around the room.  He was just in there earlier that day, although Charles imagined that it felt different being in there at night.  In the dim light, Melmord’s skin looked almost pale blue.</p><p>“So,” Melmord grinned.  “You wanna do this here?  Knew you were a closet freak.”</p><p>Charles brushed past him and pulled back a panel embedded into the far wall.  After entering his passcode and pressing his index and pinky finger against the sensor, he unlocked the door to his personal chambers.</p><p>Melmord whistled,</p><p>“Do all managers get one of those?  When’s mine getting installed?”</p><p>“Just follow me.”  Charles kept his head down.  Maybe part of him was hoping that Melmord would leave.  Or, maybe he wasn’t hoping, but predicting the inevitable.  Despite all pretenses, Melmord had to be intelligent, right?  There’s no way he could possibly think that this was a good idea.</p><p>If Melmord came to his senses first, what would that say about him?</p><p>But still, Melmord stepped through the door.  Charles followed after him and shut it behind them.  His heart raced in his chest as he flicked the lights on, revealing his neat but still modest living quarters.</p><p>“Hm.”  Melmord tapped his chin, taking in his surroundings.  “So did the four star hotel room aesthetic come with the place, or was that a deliberate design choice on your part.”</p><p>Charles frowned,</p><p>“What’s your point?”</p><p>“Relax, man.  You have a nice place.”  Melmord sprinted towards the bed and leapt onto the mattress.  “You got me alone like you wanted.  So, how will you have me?”</p><p>The comical wiggling of his eyebrows was definitely meant to get under his skin, and it was working.  Charles found the prospect of walking towards the bed to be even more difficult than he initially planned.</p><p>“Here,” Melmord reached out and grabbed his wrist, then stopped when he noticed how rapid his pulse was.  “Dude, are you okay?”</p><p>Charles nodded, trying to remain composed even though the pounding in his wrist told a more honest story.  It didn’t help when Melmord brought his hand to his lips and kissed along the top of his knuckles.</p><p>“You don’t have to be nervous.”  His voice slipped back into that uncharacteristically genuine tone that made Charles’ entire body tense up.  “I got you.”</p><p>Charles found himself stunned into silence as Melmord trailed his lips up the expanse of his hand, lingering around the underside of his wrist.  The kisses were punctuated by him whispering soothing platitudes against his skin.  Lots of gentle shushing and <em> “it’s okay” </em> s.  It made Charles’ body go cold.  It was if Melmord saw him as someone who needed to be comforted - someone who was <em> scared </em> .  Not the manager of Dethklok who <em> earned </em> his position.  No, he wasn’t going to make things that easy for Melmord.</p><p>He swiped his hand away, causing Melmord to stare up at him, his eyes widened.  Good, that was more like it.</p><p>“Get, uh, get undressed.”  He hated how nervous his voice sounded.  Melmord’s little burst of laughter didn’t help.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“I said, get undressed.”  He made sure to sound more assertive in his voice this time, channeling the same tone he’d use whenever he’d have to seriously scold the band.  </p><p>It appeared to have a similar effect on Melmord.  He nodded without saying another word, then sat back on the bed.  He shrugged his jacket off first, tossing it somewhere on the floor.  Even though he was finally following orders, he still made a production of undoing each button on his shirt, watching Charles’ face carefully as more of his chest was exposed.  Admittedly, Charles felt a little weak in the knees when he finally threw his shirt to the side.  Melmord was…well-built, he couldn’t help but notice.  He couldn’t help but wonder what kind of workout routine Melmord subscribed to.  Maybe something to ask about later.</p><p>Charles continued watching in silence as Melmord pulled at his belt, letting it drop to the floor in a clatter.</p><p>“You know,” Melmord spoke up as he began undoing his pants.  “A little music would make the strip tease go by a lot smoother.”</p><p>Charles sat down in a chair facing the bed, making a deliberate choice not to respond.</p><p>Melmord huffed in frustration and pulled his pants down around his hips.  It didn’t take long until he was completely undressed and sprawled out across the bed.</p><p>Charles got out of his chair so he could stand over him.  There was something so thrilling about still being fully-dressed in his suit while Melmord was fully exposed before him.  He cooly ran his palm across the expanse of his defined chest, trailing down his abdomen and stopping right before he reached the light “v” below his navel.  </p><p>Melmord sucked in a breath, his hair spreading out over the pillow as he craned his neck back.</p><p>He then ran his finger along his cock in a detached, almost clinical fashion.  Although, the way Melmord squirmed under his touch made Charles feel anything but detached.  It was intoxicating, really, to see that cocky demeanor finally start to chip away.</p><p>Melmord gripped Charles’ wrist and used it as leverage to push himself up into a sitting position.</p><p>“You had to know I wouldn’t be content with just this, right?”  He gripped his lapels and pulled his jacket off of his shoulders.</p><p>Charles decided to just let Melmord undress him, although he did protest when he threw his jacket to the side.</p><p>“That was-”</p><p>“You can fold it later.”  He began working at his tie.  “And, what, don’t you have like a hundred indentical gray suits?”</p><p>Charles felt his mouth go dry.  It wasn’t too far off from the truth.</p><p>The tie was thrown to the side, soon followed by his white button-up shirt.  Melmord took his sweet time removing his undershirt, trailing his lips across his skin as he rolled the shirt further up his torso.  Charles could feel himself trembling.  How long was he trembling?  More importantly, did Melmord notice?</p><p>He was so busy processing this that he barely registered it when Melmord pushed him onto the bed.  When he first got Melmord naked, he found it easy to revel in how vulnerable he made him.  That was no longer the case when his potential replacement was crawling over his form.</p><p>The worst thing was, for a moment, Charles didn’t care.  Not when Melmord kissed him again, running his hands across his bare chest.  Whatever game Melmord was playing, it haunted Charles how he seemed to touch him with such genuine interest.  After going for such a long time keeping everyone around him at a professional distance, being held and kissed with such intensity was a shock to the system, like being dropped into an open body of water after almost dying of thirst.</p><p>With Charles’ assistance, Melmord eventually pulled his pants and undergarments the rest of the way down, discarding them to the floor as well.  God, those were definitely going to wrinkle.  But knowing the massive scandal he was potentially walking into, it was nice to know that he still had it in him to worry about such superficial matters.</p><p>“You got a nice dick, man.”  Melmord hummed in approval as he held him in a loose fist.  “Very picturesque.”</p><p>What was he supposed to say to that?  What was <em> anyone </em> supposed to say to that?</p><p>A gentle touch to his inner thigh startled him out of his thoughts.  He must have reacted visibly in some way because Melmord chuckled.</p><p>“Never thought you’d be ticklish.”</p><p>Charles frowned, steeling himself.</p><p>“Hey, nothing to be ashamed of.  I’m ticklish too.”  He winked.  “Maybe later, I can show you where.”</p><p>He tossed his head to the side, refusing to look at him.  Was Melmord actually charming, or was Charles just this desperate?</p><p>Melmord ran his lips down his chest, stopping at his nipple.  When he gave a playful nip, Charles winced and shoved him away.</p><p>“Sorry.”  Melmord laughed, tucking some of his hair behind his ear.  “Not a fan of nipple play?  I respect that.  Although, you’re missing out, dude.”</p><p>“Can you just-”  Charles sighed and rubbed his forehead.</p><p>“Hey, um,”  Melmord’s demeanor suddenly changed.  “Are you okay?  I mean, I’m down, but if this is making you uncomfortable-”</p><p>Charles shook his head.  Despite his nerves, the idea of Melmord leaving right now...no, he couldn’t have that.</p><p>“No, I want you to keep going.”  He sat up so he could grab Melmord by the hair and pull him into another kiss.  After catching his lower lip between his teeth, he pulled back and whispered, “As long as you promise to be good for me.”</p><p>Melmord nodded, breathless and his eyes wide.</p><p>Charles reclined back against the bed, now confident that Melmord would behave.</p><p>“So, uh,”  Melmord looked around the room, drumming his hands against his thighs.  “You got condoms?  And lube.”</p><p>Charles nodded,</p><p>“Bedside table.  Bottom drawer.”</p><p>Melmord hesitated, apparently not expecting Charles to give him permission to get it himself.  Good, he liked that he was acknowledging his place.  Besides, Charles knew he didn’t keep anything too incriminating in there.</p><p>Charles watched from the bed as Melmord grabbed the lube and box of condoms from the drawer.  After retrieving the items, he traced his fingers along Charles’ inner thigh again, only to be stopped again.</p><p>“The door by the dresser leads to the bathroom.”  He made sure to keep his voice even.  “Go get a towel.”</p><p>Melmord nodded without question and followed his orders.  It was almost cute, the way he scurried back and began carefully laying the towel out over the comforter.</p><p>“Is this good?”</p><p>“Yes.”  Charles beckoned Melmord back over, pulling the other man on top of him and pulling him into another kiss.  As the night went on, he found it easier to dictate the situation, especially as Melmord was seemingly more willing to let him take the lead.  He pulled back so his lips barely brushed against his.  “Get me ready.”</p><p>“Yes, sir.”  There was still a mocking quality to his voice, but the words still sent a shiver up his spine all the same.  He sat back on his knees, dousing his fingers in the lube as Charles rolled over onto his stomach.  An embarrassingly submissive position, but it was better than letting Melmord see his face.</p><p>He shivered when he felt Melmord squeeze more of the lube onto his bare skin.  He tried to keep his reactions to a minimum, but that was proving to be difficult when he felt Melmord circling a finger around his entrance.  When the finger entered him, Charles leveled his breathing and closed his eyes.</p><p>Strangely, having his rival’s fingers working in and out of his body didn’t bother him.  But what bothered him was the gentle touch of Melmord’s free hand against the small of his back.  What bothered him was the soothing words and the soft kisses he placed along his shoulder blades in an attempt to comfort him.  What bothered him was the idea that Melmord thought he needed to be taken care of - that he actually <em> cared </em>.</p><p>“Are you okay?”</p><p>Charles didn’t respond until he was confident that he could do so without a quiver in his voice.</p><p>“I’m fine.”</p><p>“Can I add another finger?”</p><p>Charles nodded, pressing his face deeper into the pillow.  Soon, Melmord had two fingers maneuvering inside of him.  At one point, Melmord’s fingers curled and, much to his frustration, a shaky moan escaped his lips.</p><p>“That’s nice, huh?”  The smile in his voice was evident without Charles having to turn around.  “This is a good look for you.”</p><p>Charles squeezed his eyes shut, too overwhelmed by the sensations to even feel embarrassed.</p><p>When Melmord retracted his fingers, Charles was allowed a brief moment of respite, but he could only focus on the sound of a condom wrapper being torn open, soon followed by the slick sound of him rubbing the lube across his cock.  He felt his body tremble in anticipation.  It had been so long and the idea of getting fucked by his business rival was too thrilling to resist.</p><p>Melmord clutched his hip with one hand and positioned himself at his entrance with the other.  Charles let out a labored, shaky breath as he slowly pushed his way in.</p><p>“You know,” Melmord gave a breathless laugh.  “The others said you always had a <em> stick </em> up your ass, but-”</p><p>He stopped talking when Charles shot him a glare over his shoulder.</p><p>“Alright, alright.  No talking about ‘the boys’ while we’re fucking, I get you.”</p><p>Charles was about to say something biting back, but it dissolved into a pleasured gasp when Melmord grabbed his hips and gave a particularly strong thrust.</p><p>“Real talk,” he panted.  “You feel so fuckin good, dude.”</p><p>Not exactly a line Charles was used to hearing in bed.</p><p>It didn’t take long for Charles to lose himself in the primal sensations.  The workplace politics and the reality of their rivalry didn’t matter as he found himself pushing back against Melmord’s hips, desperate to take him in deeper.  Just being able to lose himself for once.  Even if the man he was losing himself to was the same man who was encroaching on his title.</p><p>Melmord leaned down to kiss the back of his neck and Charles shuddered.  That felt too nice, too tender for what this was.  Even the little sighs he heard from the other manager’s lips caused his chest to ache.  The tender kisses along his back, the considerate touches of his fingers across his hips...no.  They couldn’t have this.  <em> He </em> couldn’t have this.</p><p>“Stop.”  Charles found himself saying.</p><p>Melmord halted the movements of his hips almost immediately.</p><p>“You good?”</p><p>“Get on the bed.”</p><p>Melmord paused, then he slowly pulled out and followed Charles’ orders.  </p><p>Charles placed his hand on his chest and shoved him down against the mattress.  Melmord let out a breathless laugh.</p><p>“Oh good, I was afraid that you wanted to stop.”</p><p>Charles straddled his hips and reached down to grip the base of his cock, repositioning him at his entrance.  He kept his eyes trained on Melmord’s face as he slowly sank back down, reveling in the little details of the sharpening of his breath and the way he stared up at him with an utterly spellbound expression.</p><p>“Oh fuck,” He gasped.  “Charles…”</p><p>Charles reached down to grab his hair, tugging sharply and eliciting a shocked cry from the man below him.</p><p>“We’re not on a first name basis.”</p><p>“Okay, sorry.  Just watch the hair!”</p><p>Charles sighed, satisfied, and released his hair so he could return his attention to riding him.  While he made an effort to keep his reactions contained, he basked in seeing Melmord lose himself, writhing against the sheets, openly voicing his indulgence.  Even as he started angling his hips so Melmord was hitting that right spot, he found the view to be more pleasurable than any of the many physical sensations.</p><p>“Oh fuck-!  Ch--Offdensen!”  He gasped out.  “I’m going to come.”</p><p>Charles frowned and slowly slowed his movements before coming to a complete stop.</p><p>“You’re not going to come before me.”</p><p>Melmord whined and tried to thrust his hips up, only for Charles to pin him back down against the bed.</p><p>“Dude, I was so close.”</p><p>“Find it in yourself to hold back.”</p><p>“Easy for you to say,” Melmord muttered, before giving another ineffective thrust.”</p><p>Charles placed his hand on his chest, trailing upwards before running a finger along his Adam's apple.</p><p>“I’ll let you finish, but only if you’re good for me.”</p><p>“Excuse you, I’ve been <em> very </em> good to you.”</p><p>“You really think so?”  Charles lifted his hips until Melmord slipped out, eliciting a frustrated groan from the other man.  “Because I think there’s still more you can do for me.”</p><p>Charles sat back against the headboard and gripped the base of his cock, beckoning for Melmord to come closer.  Much to his delight, he didn’t hesitate at all, practically diving between his spread thighs.  He grabbed his cock, running his hand along his shaft and looked up at Charles with a roguish grin that made his chest flutter.</p><p>“You’re lucky you’re hot,” Melmord chuckled as he flicked his tongue along the underside of his cock.  “Because otherwise this ‘dom boss’ act would get really old.”</p><p>Any biting response Charles had died in his throat when those mocking lips were around him.  He reclined his head back, reveling in each subtle movement of Melmord’s mouth working its way down his cock.  It was intoxicating how he seemed to be paying special attention to him, focusing on his reactions and tracing his tongue along his skin in just the right way that had his entire body trembling.</p><p>When he looked down, he felt his heart skip a beat when he saw Melmord looking back up at him.  His usual lazy-looking green eyes were now focused and piercing.  That combined with his dick in his mouth almost made him come right there.</p><p>Charles grabbed a handful of his hair, relishing in the feeling of the soft strands running through his fingers.  He rubbed at his scalp, causing Melmord to hum contently around his shaft, his eyes drifting shut in pleasure.  In a brief guilty moment of self-indulgence, Charles found himself enjoying the idea of keeping Melmord around.  If only to receive more of this treatment.</p><p>“Melmord-” He gasped out, his hands tightening in his hair.</p><p>Melmord hummed around his cock and began working harder against him.  It all became too much.  The soft feeling of his hair between his fingers, those lips and that tongue working expertly across his shaft, the sheer reality that his business rival was working this hard to pleasure him.</p><p>“Fuck…”  Charles gritted through his teeth and tightened his grip on his hair.  He was going to come, right into his mouth.  That thought alone was what pushed him over the edge.  He thrust sharply up into him, disregarding the light gag from the other man as he chased the feeling welling inside of him.  </p><p>When he finally came, for a blissful moment the complicated nature of the situation melted away as he released himself into his mouth.  Melmord braced a hand against his hip and swallowed around him obediently, just like Charles hoped he would.  He pulled back with a gasp, a string of cum still connecting his tongue from the tip of his dick.</p><p>“You’ve been holding back for a while,” his voice was a little raspy.  “Haven’t you?”</p><p>Apparently Melmord was incapable of turning it off for even a second.  He sighed and released his grip from his hair.</p><p>“You, ah, you did well.”</p><p>“Thanks, man.”  Melmord sat up and wiped his lips with his thumb.  “So you gonna return the favor, or-”</p><p>He stopped when he noticed Charles’ stare, and cleared his throat.</p><p>“I mean, I’m totally fine just jerking off, or whatever.  But I just thought…”</p><p>Charles shook his head.</p><p>“Lie down.”</p><p>Melmord’s eyes widened in anticipation, before his face broke into a grin.  He reclined back against the bed, propping his head up on one of his arms.</p><p>Charles scanned his way down his body, running his fingers along the tense muscles, before stripping the condom off and disposing it in a nearby waste bin.  He could feel his rival trembling beneath him as he ran his fingers across his shaft.  The slight hitch in his breath and the restrained moan almost had him raring to go again.  If he were ten years younger, maybe.</p><p>“Offdensen…”  he gasped, raising his hips up into his touch.  “That’s so good, just like that.”</p><p>Charles sped up his movements, appreciating the way his muscles visibly tensed beneath him.  He could feel him getting closer, his movements becoming more sporadic.  As tempting as it was to stop and leave him dry again, Charles resisted the urge.</p><p>“Oh, fuck-!”  He arched his back.  “<em> Fuck!” </em></p><p>Charles watched in amused interest as Melmord thrust up one last time, before coming over his stomach and chest.  He wanted to capture this image forever.  Not just for the sexual satisfaction, but also for the image of seeing Melmord like this, totally debased and submitted before him.</p><p>Melmord took a moment to catch his breath after Charles retracted his hand, before using the towel beneath him to wipe the cum off his chest.  When Charles winced, he shot him a sly smile.</p><p>“What?  Isn’t that what it’s here for?”</p><p>Charles sighed and laid back against the bed.  Melmord tossed the towel to the floor with the rest of their clothes (ugh, not a pleasant thought) and trailed his fingers down his side.</p><p>“You’re a pretty good screw, dude.”  He chuckled.  “Usually I’m not into the power play thing, but you made it hot.”</p><p>“I, uh…”  At first, Charles didn’t want to humor him with a response, but he found himself saying. “...thanks.”</p><p>Melmord grinned and patted him on the shoulder.</p><p>“No problem.  Looking forward to working with you.”  He seemed to think for a moment.  “Will this be going in my performance review?”</p><p>Despite everything, Charles found himself laughing.  Probably from the exhaustion.</p><p>“I’ll think about it.”</p><p>Melmord laughed as well, burying his head into his shoulder.</p><p>“You mind if I stay here tonight?  I don’t feel like walking back to my room.”</p><p>Charles paused.  How was he supposed to navigate this?  In all his years at Mordhaus, he realized that he never had someone spend the night in his room before.  Was he really going to break that streak with the man who was threatening to take his job?  But despite all of that, Charles found himself not being able to face the rest of the night by himself.  That, and he was too tired to continue pondering the consequences.</p><p>“Fine.”  He pulled himself under the covers.  “Just, behave yourself.”</p><p>“I think I’ve proven that I know how to behave.”  Melmord chuckled before slipping under the covers as well.  “But sure.”</p><p>“Also, this goes without saying, but you will not breathe a word of this to anyone.”</p><p>Melmord mimed zipping his lips shut and throwing away the key.</p><p>“I can be very discrete.  <em> Especially </em>if this means we can have future trysts.”</p><p>The future… Charles didn’t want to think about that.  Knowing him, it wouldn’t be that easy.</p><p>“Just…”  He sighed.  “Get some sleep.”</p><p>Charles felt his body tense up when Melmord pressed a gentle kiss to his temple.  A gesture that was way too tender considering what they were.</p><p>“Goodnight.”</p><p> </p>
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<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Charles woke up in a daze.  Did he really...break his abstinence streak to fuck </span>
  <em>
    <span>Melmord?</span>
  </em>
  <span>  Melmord, of all people?  He could only hope that he would stay true to his word of not revealing the details of their encounter.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>While he was lying awake for a few minutes, he didn’t sit up in bed until he heard something coming from the other side of the room.  Curiously, he opened his eyes to see Melmord, fully dressed and sorting through his drawers.  Charles felt like a cold hand was gripping his heart as he climbed out of bed and stood behind him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Find anything interesting?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Melmord jumped and turned around.  For a moment, his eyes looked wild and fierce, before morphing back into his usual casual stare.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, hey.  Just figured you’d have a weed stash somewhere in here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charles wasn’t buying it.  And he knew Melmord knew he wasn’t buying it.  He could only hope that Melmord also couldn’t sense the feeling of hurt that was growing in his chest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think you should leave.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Melmord faltered, then nodded, stepping away from the drawer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay.”  He ran his fingers through his hair.  “I guess I’ll see you around?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charles stared into the middle distance, not moving until he heard Melmord give an exasperated sigh and leave, closing the bedroom door behind him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Now finally alone, Charles sat back on the foot of the bed and held his head in his hands.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At the time, he had no way of knowing for certain that the next time he saw Melmord would also be the last.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But part of him always knew.</span>
</p>
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